Biggie recently learned what a borb is.
Being a hip and innovative teen, he decided that crows could be borbs, too.
You nailed it, Biggie.
Today I told Biggie that he has to stay off the neighbor's awning, and that when I throw kibbles we have to make absolutely certain that he catches them and they don't fall on the other side of the fence because if they do it will make the mean lady appear. Biggie listened to me. He hopped off the awning and onto the fence. I wasn't at all surprised that he responded to what I said. I talk to him all the time and I'm pretty sure he has a decent grasp of basic English at this point. I wasn't expecting him to sit down, though. I call it "sittin' heavy." It's one of my own weird crow terminologies. It's a big deal when a crow sits heavy near you. It takes a few more fractions of a second to burst into flight from this position than from crouched or standing. A few fractions of a second could be all I need to lunge at Biggie and gobble him up, but Biggie's well-aware that because of him and all the other crows I don't eat birds anymore.
So I could say that Biggie is sittin' heavy in my presence because he trusts me, but something tells me this is his way of saying "I ain't afraid of no bossy lady."
You're so fuckin' cute, Biggie.
You look good in borb.
This is my entry for the #monomad challenge, held daily in the Black and White Community.
Give it a try. Sit heavy.
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